illicit affairs;

Running a tech company had never been a dream of Eve’s, but when a few too many good ideas and opportunities fell into her lap, she wasn’t about to snuff at the stars aligning. Eve is also, at times, loathe to admit that she thrives in the pressure of the atmosphere of research, development, and launches. It’s never good to feel at your best when running off of little sleep and espresso. Plus, what she’s good at goes hand in hand with talking to potential investors and collaborators, and that is something Eve dreads And, of course, that’s all she’s done all day. Too many phone calls and video conferences, and even a few in person meetings. She’s drained in more ways than one, and still annoyed she was forced to ask Maggie for a raincheck for lunch. 

Because Maggie is, well, for someone that can wax poetic about quantum entanglement, Eve has a hard time putting words to Maggie and the feelings she evokes. The magnetism about her. 

Eve is making a mental note to text later and apologize again, perhaps ask about brunch over the weekend, when the knock at her open office door draws her attention instead. For a moment Eve just blinks, certain that her tired state and thoughts of Maggie have resulted in some kind of mental manifestation, an illusion, but then she catches the scent of the takeaway in Maggie’s hands and Eve knows it’s not but a dream.

“If that’s the eggplant club and truffle fries I smell, I might just have to kiss you. I haven’t eaten since…” Eve’s words trail off because the croissant rose delivered with her 10am coffee is still untouched at the edge of her desk. Brainfood is overrated anyway. “I haven’t eaten. Hi, Maggie. How are you, aside from being a literal angel? I’m sorry cancelling, and I’m so happy you’re here.” And Eve finds that, unlike so many of the conversations she held today for business and the cordial pleasantries she was forced to exchange with small talk, she actually truly means what she’s saying now.

-

I might just have to kiss you. Maggie’s cheeks warm at the words and while she knows Eve is being hyperbolic the thought of it still sends a shiver down her spine. Truth be told, she didn’t have much of a plan beyond this point -- spurred instead by a rare burst of spontaneity and a desire to see Eve again -- and while that would normally send Maggie into a spiral of anxiety and discomfort she finds herself strangely (and delightfully) at ease. And not just because the tip she’d gotten on the eggplant club had paid off. 

“Well then pucker up,” she says, and while it’s meant to be teasing she finds herself cringing immediately -- because try as she might to appear cool and smooth, flirting has never been Maggie’s strong point and that has never been more evident than now. “I just meant --  because you said --” she bites her lip, head bowing forward in attempt to conceal cheeks as they turn from dusty pink to a deeper shade of red. And this, right here, is why she shies away from acting impulsively -- because her foot has a nasty habit of finding its way into her mouth. 

Still, she nods, placing the takeaway bag on Eve’s desk beside the stale croissant. “Yes, it’s the eggplant club,” she tries again, forcing herself to meet Eve’s gaze, “and I’m happy too. Especially since you clearly needed this. A person cannot survive on coffee alone.”

Giving up on her book, and honestly she’s lost her focus anyway, Frankie glances at the long slender fingers tugging on her shirt. She’s seen plenty of pushy customers, she owns a coffee shop in LA after all, but can honestly say this is a first. Wondering if it’s due to her manly side that seems to be showing today, or some other thing she won’t, and doesn’t care to, understand, Frankie sees this is something she can’t ignore into going away.

“Oh, okay. I didn’t know you really needed it. That changes everything.”

Shutting her book and leaning onto the counter to give the annoyingly attractive woman her undivided attention, she adopts her sarcastic customer service voice.

“Please tell me, how can I serve you?”

-

Pepper brightens noticeably at the other woman’s perceived change in attitude. Not that she ever doubted her ability win the flannel clad barista over because, like it was totally an honest mistake, but that doesn’t make it any less satisfying when the shorter woman puts her book to the side and gives Pepper the attention she deserves. 

“Ohmygod, no worries, babes,” she says with a wave of her hand, “you are totally forgiven.” And then, to show just how totally cool they are, she reaches across the counter to boop the barista’s nose with the tip of her index finger. 

“Dirty chai latte, half sweet, two thirds almond milk one oat with just like a whisper of foam, please, and um -- what’s your wifi password?”

SAMMY: My aunt did say she was going to name one after me one time, but I like I don't think she's in charge of that.

SAMMY: Ironed it is!

SAMMY: Is it a red carpet thing?

BEA: No, that's a real thing! Well, I don't know if it's recognized by NASA but I have seen the boxes.

BEA: Now I want a star 🥺

SAM: Of course! I didn't know food was on the line! I'll plan for more gym time

SAM: Just talk to them? I can do that. That's easy!

SAM: I can try our some of my impressions!

MAGS: I'll make them healthy, promise! Nana used lots of butter, but I'm sure I can figure out some substitutes!

MAGS: Sure! Whatever makes you feel comfortable! Just maybe try to throw in an inspirational story or two?

Fully ignoring the world around her, despite that world being coffee drinking customers, Frankie turns the page in her book with every intention to at least finish her chapter. It’s right in the middle of a good part, and she’s ready to gloat to herself about having pegged the killer from the start, but someone seems intent on keeping that from happening.

It’s when she hears herself being called a grumpy old man, that she glances up from her page slightly to see who she’s dealing with. Frankie turns in her chair to glance behind her in search of this man, that she knows isn’t actually someone that exists, and looks back again.

“Yeah, he said he’s busy, and you should wait. Tough break.”

Opening her book again, Frankie flips the page like her concentration wasn’t completely shot.

Pepper frowns when the figure turns around to reveal a woman. One with surprisingly good bone structure, no less and there’s a momentary tinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach because there’s really nothing old or manly about her, but Pepper’s quick to brush it off -- if this very lazy barista didn’t want to be confused for an old man, she shouldn’t have dressed like one. 

But even her faux pas is no excuse for this blatant dismissal of her patronage, thank you very much. Pepper may be a lot of things, but easily ignored isn’t one of them. Clearing her throat, she reaches across the counter, fingers tugging on soft flannel intent on getting the other woman’s attention. 

“Hi, I know we got off on the wrong foot -- my bad -- but I like really need a caffeine fix.”

SAMMY: Okay!

SAMMY: I totally sounds fun!

SAMMY: How fancy is it? Like four different forks fancy? Or like just make sure my clothes are ironed fancy?

BEA: SAM EVANS YOU ARE A STAR 💫

SAM: I love making kids days and saving butts!!!

SAM: Totally two of my favorite things!

SAM: How can I help?

MAGS: Seriously? You're the best! Total life saver! Anything you want from my Nana's cook book, I'm making it!

MAGGIE: Hi!

MAGGIE: Don't suppose you'd want to make a bunch of kids' day while simultaneously saving my butt?

"Hiya,” Bea smiles, a cheeky glint in her eye as she slides into the seat beside the brunette. It’s been a relatively boring night at the bar, most of her friends having already made their way home at a reasonable hour much to her chagrin. But there were some perks to flying solo, she figures -- making new friends being at the top of her list. And what can she say? She’s a sucker for a striking pair of blue eyes. “Fancy a refill?”

"Here,” her tone is gruff as she places the full pint of beer on the bar in front of him and takes a long drink from her own. “That guy over there,” she gestures with a tilt of her head, “won’t leave me alone, so...” Max shrugs, offering a sheepish smile as she tips her glass towards him, “wanna be my boyfriend?”

She’s been standing in line for what feels like hours which is like... totally ridiculous because from what she can tell the planet is completely dead. She sighs loudly, shifting from one foot to the other in the hopes of getting someone’s attention, shifting from one foot to other to really drive home her impatience. 

Nothing. 

Pepper huffs, marching towards the counter. “Um, excuse me! Grumpy old man! I’d like to order, please.”

There’s something bubbling in the pit of Maggie’s stomach as she takes the route described by the receptionist to Eve’s office -- excitement, she decides and something else she can’t quite to put her finger on. But certainly something she hopes to explore further. Something the pair were meant to do over lunch that day when something work related had cropped up and forced Eve to cancel. 

But Maggie figured she still needed to eat, so... here she is. At Eve’s office. Assured by a surprised looking middle aged woman that she won’t be bothering her new friend. So, with takeout from the planet tucked precariously under her arm, she gives the open door a gentle knock. 

“Knock knock,”  she sing songs, "delivery!” 

BEA: [ picture of an invitation to a fancy la event ]

— BASICS

full name. beatrice anne smith

age & birthday. 30 & 07/25/90

gender identity. cis female

preferred pronouns. she/her

orientation. pansexual, homoromantic

parents. davis smith ( father ), eleanor smith ( mother, deceased )

hometown. blackpool, uk